I Do

Lord, You know how difficult it usually is to write here. You know how much this place feels like I'm put on display as a spectacle to the world, both to angels and to men, even more than my other blog can feel that way. I didn't realize that there would be so many of Your people who haven't heard Your voice yet, who wouldn't understand. *sigh*

Yet I've trusted You to use this place in someone else's life, however that might be. I've become grateful for the way You've used this "journal" in my own life, reminding me of how close You've been in some very dark hours.

You see how the darkness still wants me. I did provoke it, I suppose. You answered that prayer swiftly and surely and mightily. Would I be so bold as to dare open that door again? I suppose I would, for You know I can't abide to simply stand and watch someone suffer if I think I can do something to help...

But what about all the lesser darkness that came before, that never overcame me? Was my crazy love for You all the provocation necessary? How inadequate I've come to feel, in both love for You and ability to face even lesser darkness. C'mon, Lord—I'm just a little child! You see that I cannot discern between my right hand and my left. You see that I am not sufficient as Your "aroma of death leading to death, and the aroma of life leading to life." Who sends a little kid out into such battle? It's too big!

When I spread my hands before You yesterday with all this, You spoke with such gentle strength. "I have been with you." Yes, You certainly have. And You're way bigger than the battle, which belongs to You anyway.

I want to feel my sufficiency in You again. I find I'm afraid to. What if it gives me that kind of boldness again? It seems safer to feel insufficient. Is the heat of war behind me, or do You only train me? (A little rest would be nice ...)

Thank You for loving me so much bigger than I'll ever comprehend. Thank You for the ways You assure me of that. I'm grateful for the reminders.

Like two days ago, when we brought home Elizabeth's new violin—the one she should have had before now instead of using that beginner one as she's advanced far beyond beginner. (Thanks so much for providing it BTW. What a miracle all that was!) I love her music so much. To my ear it already sounded lovely. And then she began playing on an instrument that took the same violinist, the same notes, the same song, and made them richer, fuller, gentler, and oh so sweet. What a difference!

She could hardly stop playing. As I listened to that sweet music, I became aware of how much different I'll look someday. I told You that I can hardly wait until the day when the stench of all the sin I hate so much no longer clings to me, when I no longer fail to behave as Jesus would, when my love for You is perfected. I told You that I want You to be able to see me as richer, fuller, gentler, and oh so sweet.

Only the power of Your precious Son's blood could make possible Your reply.

"I do."